Matt hid behind the tombstone in St. Philips church cemetery as the Charleston police officer shined his flashlight back and forth. He came within just a few feet of exposing him before he turned around and made his way back to the front gate. How he got into this mess wasn’t clear. What was clear was that fact that the police wanted to arrest him, a woman he didn’t know wanted to help him and three men wanted him dead.
Three Days Earlier
9:15 am Tuesday
It was a perfect June morning in Charleston. Eighty-one degrees with a high of 90 expected. No rain forecasted and only a few fluffy white clouds meandering across the sky. Matt had taken the day off from his job as the owner of a Ghost Tour company with a plan to do some surf fishing on Folly Beach. High tide was at 3:30 pm so the ideal time to wet his line would be would be between 11 and 4.
He packed his cooler with three ham sandwiches, a 2 two liter Coke, three quarts of Gatorade and a big bag of boiled peanuts not to mention two pounds of cut shrimp for bait. He grabbed his tackle box and fishing rod and pronounced himself ready. He loaded everything into his eight year old Chevy Trailblazer and hit the road.
The drive to Folly beach took no more than twenty minutes but today the traffic was heavier than usual. He figured there were a lot of visitors in town and just hoped that that they all didn’t have the same plans as he.
There was a fishing pier at Folly but that was the last place he wanted to be. His favorite spot was on the north end of the island. It was called Lighthouse Creek and it separated Folly from Morris Island which was an uninhabited stretch of sand, small trees and scrub brush that was most known for the Civil War battle called the “Assault on Ft. Wagener”. The first black Union regiment known as the 54th Massachusetts had suffered heavy casualties in the battle and their story was told in the movie “Glory”.
Fishing in Lighthouse Creek could go either way. One time he hooked a three foot Sand shark. Another time he caught an eight pound Red Drum or as the locals called it a spot tailed bass. There were also many days when he would spend the entire time without so much as a nibble. The main thing was the fact that he was by the ocean without a house in sight and the beauty of the Lowcountry marsh coupled with the smell of pluff mud that made him remember that there was no place on earth that he’d rather be.
The only problem was his fishing location. After he parked it was over a mile walk to the mouth of Lighthouse Creek. He solved the problem of carrying all of his “stuff” by using a small wheel barrow.
(2)
10:40 am Wells Fargo Bank, Folly Road.
A dark blue Ford Taurus Pulled into a small empty lot on Fort Johnson Road about a quarter mile from the bank. Two men dressed in t-shirts, jeans and sneakers got out while a third man stayed in the car with the engine running. The two walked briskly toward the corner where the bank stood. Both wore fake long hair and beards and each donned a backpack. At first glance they appeared to look like any other hikers that were numerous in the area especially this time of year. It also helped that there was a campground two miles down the road in the direction they were coming from. When they reached the bank’s back parking lot they paused.
“You ready?” One said.
“Yea. You?”
“Let’s get it done. Remember the sixty second rule.”
“Don’t worry about me,” the other man said.
They went in from the back entrance and to a separate counter where the deposit/withdrawal slips were kept. They both pretended to fill one out as they studied the room. There were two tellers, five other customers and a security guard who gave them the once over and then figuring they were just campers went back to reading a Sports Illustrated. One man pretended to be having trouble filling out his slip and the other laughed and acted as though he was helping him. What they were actually doing was stalling for time. There were only three customers now and within a few seconds there would only be two and they would be older females provided no one else came in.
No one did.
“Now,” one said and proceeded to get in line behind one of the women. The other man walked over to the guard and pointed to his slip pretending to have a question. As the guards eyes were fixed on the piece of paper he never saw the taser that the man pushed into his side. He kept it there even as the guard collapsed to the floor. He relieved him of his pistol and waited on his partner who had just jumped the counter and started stuffing his backpack with cash carefully bypassing the dye packs which he was able to spot immediately.
It was all over in thirty-eight seconds.
$10,314 in a little over half a minute.
On their way back to the vehicle they cut through a small patch of woods where they shed their fake hair and beards, t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers. They had shorts on underneath and pulled flip-flops, flowered island shirts, and baseball caps from a compartment of their backpacks. Within another thirty seconds they looked completely different. They kept the backpack that held the cash but left the other one which held the taser the guards and their own two guns which were nothing more than two very real looking toys.
Four minutes from the start of the robbery they were back in the car.
“Good job Rick,” one man said as they pulled onto Fort Johnson Road heading in the same direction as the bank.
Good job yourself,” Rick said as he pulled the cash from the back pack and put it into a false bottom under the carpet in the back seat. The driver had pulled onto Folly Road and
(3)
headed toward the beach.
“We need to ditch this backpack,” Rick added. “Make the next right Lee.”
“Gotcha,” he said and as he made the next turn onto Sol Legare Rd. and pulled over. Rick tossed the bag into the ditch. They turned around and proceeded toward the beach. The only thing they had with them that connected them to the robbery was the money and it was well hidden.
“Well that went smooth,” Rick said smiling. “What do you thing Grady?”
“It was a thing of beauty.”
As they laughed at Grady’s remark three police cars went flying by headed in the opposite direction of the bank.
They laughed even harder.
As they neared the bridge that connected Folly island to the mainland the Charleston County Police had already set up a roadblock at the foot of the bridge.
“Damn that was fast,” Lee said
“Your paperwork is in order right?” Rick asked.
“For the tenth time Rick, yes everything is cool.”
There were two cars and six officers were checking driver’s licenses when Lee pulled up with his window down. The officer asked him for his license, registration and proof of insurance. As he pulled out his wallet two other officers looked through the front and back windows. Lee handed the cop all his paperwork and he studied it for a second and then handed it back.
“Would you mind if we took a quick peek in you trunk?” He asked.
“The trunk? What for.” Lee asked.
“Sir I’m just asking you if you mind,” he added.
“No not at all,” he said as he pulled the latch and the trunk popped open.
The two other officers looked around a trunk that the three of them had made sure was completely empty except for a couple of soft drinks, three beach chairs and a big boom box. They closed it back and nodded.
“You fellas have a good day,” the cop said.
“Hey man what’s going on?” Rick said from the back seat.
“Bank robbery,”
“What?” All three said acting surprised.
With cars piling up behind them the cops waved them on.
“I wonder who robbed the bank?” Grady said as they crossed the bridge to the island.
The laughter was deafening.
11:00 am Lighthouse Creek. Northern end of Folly Island.
Matt filled his plastic cup with ice and was about to fill it with Coke when his rod bent over, He dropped his cup and set the hook. As he started to reel it in all of a sudden it felt like whatever was on the end of the line had gotten ten times heavier. Just as soon as it had happened it was gone. Now it felt like if there was anything on his hook it wasn ’t much. He wasn’t prepred for what he saw when he got it to shore though.
(4)
There was a spot tailed bass that had been over 5 pounds and had been reduced to nothing more than a fish head.
The movie Jaws went through his mind as he stared at what at what was left of his catch.
“Had to be a shark,” he said at loud.
It was time to take a break. He hunkered down in the shade and pulled out a ham sandwich. Thirty minutes, two sandwiches and most of the boiled peanuts later he closed his eyes as a gentle sea breeze blew off the ocean. He drifted off into a relaxing nap.
The next thing he remembered was a BOOM that jolted him awake . The gentle sea breeze had turned into a cold wind and black clouds were rolling in fast. He looked at his watch. 1:25 pm. His nap had been close to an hour. One thing was certain. He was never going to make it to his vehicle before the storm hit. There wasn’t even any use in trying. It wouldn’t be the first time that he was caught in the middle of Lowcountry summer storm. In fact when he was a kid he and his friends didn’t even bother to stop what they were doing when the skies turned dark and the lightning flashed. He remembered how the drops of rain were big and thick and you would end up soaking wet in a matter of seconds. After that there wasn’t much there was no use in seeking shelter. Well it looked he was going to have to put that experience to practical use. He grabbed his cooler, rod and tackle box and secured them in some scrub brush to where they wouldn’t be rolling around if the wind got real strong. The only thing left to do was hunker down in the dunes beneath a couple of small trees.
Ten minutes later the wind picked up even stronger and almost felt cold. It got so dark that it seemed like dusk. Then came the big, fat drops. Spread out at first. They made a plopping sound as they hit the sand. Then they came quicker and harder and within another ten seconds it sounded like a roar. Then the roar grew even louder. The lightning was like a thousand flashbulbs going off in his face followed by thunder that seemed to shake the ground. It was almost as if bombs were going off over his head. Then it got downright scary. There was litteraly only a fraction of a second between seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder. When he was younger he was less frightened of electrical storms than he was now. Back then he and his friends felt indestructible. Now he knew better. When he was a child one thing his father told him about lightning that made him feel better even if it wasn’t exactly promising was that if you were to be struck you would never know it. He really hoped this was true because this storm seemed to be hovering right above his head. Everything was dark and the noise was so loud it hurt his ears. He felt like he ws on the planet alone.
Fifteen minutes later it was all over.
The sky turned from black to gray and his surroundings seemed clear and bright. Lighthouse Creek looked like a sheet of glass and was shining like a mirror. As he looked seaward a beautiful rainbow arced across the ocean.
“I’ll be damned!” He said to no one.
A sea gull appeared and landed at the water’s edge about thirty yards away looking for food after the storm. The bird didn’t even notice Matt at first. He went to his cooler and pulled out the last ham sandwich. The gull seemed to know instantly what Matt was doing
(5)
and flew within three feet of him and started squaking.
“Yea, yeah I know. Well it’s your lucky day buddy,” he said to the obnoxious scavenger. “Looks like it’s just you and me left after the storm huh?”
Matt pulled off a a big piece and threw it to him.
“I’m full and I don’t want to take this thing home with me so feast away my noisy friend.”
He sat there tossing pices of bread, ham and cheese to the gull while talking to him like a friend.
“For some reason I don’t even feel like fishing anymore. I don’t know about you but I’m wet and I’ve got sand all over me. I’ve got over a mile to walk while pushing a wheel barrow and then I have to drive over ten miles home. But you, you ARE home. He threw the last chunk of sandwich to the gull and stood up to pack everything.
“Well my little begging friend, until next time,” he said as he saluted him and started for his ride.
On the walk back he decided a beer was in order. Maybe even two or three. Twenty minutes later his vehicle was packed and the hardest part of the fishing trip was over. It was ten minutes until three in the afternoon and all he had to show for his trip was wet clothes, sand everywhere and a great story. He couldn’t wait to tell someone about the spot tailed bass.
The only question now was where to have a victory beer. The “Sand Dollar” was a private club of which he was a member but he wasn’t in the mood to be in a bar and the “Dollar” was definitely that. Another choice was was the Crab Shack which was across the street but it was pretty much a bar that served good food. Then there was the Pelican and Planet Follywood which was more of the same. Th Holiday Inn was bland and too expensive. He reached Center Street which was the main drag where 90% of all businesses on the island were located.
All four blocks of it.
Center Street ran from the Holiday Inn which was on the beach all the way to the Folly River where it turned into Hwy. 171 which was six blocks.. After you crossed the bridge 171 would take you all the way to downtown Charleston. It was the only way on and off the island. As Matt made a right turn and was looking for a place to park he saw his old friend Jeff Rutledge walking down the sidewalk. He tooted the horn and lowered his window.
“What’s up dude?” Matt asked.
“Doin’ laundry. Thought I’d grab a beer,” Jeff replied. “You”?
“Went fishing and was going to grab a cold one myself. Where you headed?”
“The Sundek.”
“Oh man I forgot about that place. I don’t know how though. Let me park and I’ll join you.”
The Sundek was on East Ashley Avenue about fifty yards from Center Street. It was a cozy place that was actually on stilts. It was like a huge second floor with no first floor. They had a huge deck, good food and cheap beer. He found a parking place a block away and met Jeff on the corner.
“So how many fish did you catch?” He asked.
(6)
“Um let’s see. I caught one fourth of a spot tailed bass, ” he said.
“Say what?” Jeff asked confused.
“I said I caught a fourth of of a spot tailed bass. Actually I caught the head of what I would estimate was a five or six pounder.”
“Oh you mean you snagged a floating head as you were reeeling in,” he figured.
“No he took the bait. I pulled the hook out of his mouth.”
Jeff laughed as he told Matt what he could stuff the fish head which was physically impossible.
Then Matt told him the whole story as they walked into the Sundek.
“That’s bizarre man,” he said.
“I figured it was probably a shark,” Matt thought.
“Yea probably but that’s a strange area. Some weird stuff has been caught in Lighthouse Creek. I remember a guy caught a 95 pound Tarpon a few years ago. It’s like going deep sea fishing on the coast,” Jeff said.
“I always wondered why it was called Lighthouse Creek when it’s as wide as a river,” Matt wondered.
“I’m pretty sure it’s because it gets so narrow the farther inland you go. It’s the size of creek a lot longer than it’s a river.”
“Makes sense,” Matt figured.
They both ordered a pitcher of Heineken and went to go sit on the deck.They grabbed a table overlooking the parking lot and poured their beers.
“Man that hit’s the spot!” Matt said.
3:35 pm Sundek East Ashley Avenue Folly Beach.
They inhaled their first beer and Matt stared to pour their second. As Matt poured Jeff glanced around at the other people on the deck. There was a table with four girls wearing long t-shirts over their bikinis and another table with three guys who had apparently been there a while considering the number of empty beer bottles in front of them. Other than that the deck was deserted.
“So have you been playing anywhere lately?” Matt asked.
Jeff was a local guitarist, singer-songwriter who was one of the few that could actually make a living off of it. Most of the solo musicians in Charleston also had day jobs. Not only was Jeff real good but he was also an astute businessman which he always said was harder than playing the gig.
“Yea I play the Holidsay Inn happy hour wed-thurs and I’ll be at the Hogpenny this weekend. I’m booked up through the summer which is great because I just bought a sailboat.”
“What kind?”
“Just a Sunfish but I got a great deal. I planned to take it out tomorrow. You want to come?”
“I’d love to but I have to work.”
(7)
“I thought you gave ghost tours at night?”
“I do but I’m the consierge at the French Quarter Inn during the day.”
“When did you start doing that?” Jeff asked.
“About two months ago. I thought I told you about that.”
“No man, I don’t think I’ve seen you since Chris’ party at Sticky Fingers back in April.”
“Damn!” Matt said. “This year is flying by.”
“So how did you land the consierge job?” Jeff asked.
“I know the owner of Magnolia Tours who knows the owner of the hotel so we made a deal. I sell tickets for their day tours and help answer the guests questions and they let me promote my ghost tour.”
“So what you’re saying is it’s all in who you know.” Jeff joked.
“Exactly,” Matt said as he raised his glass of beer.
“So tell me Matt, have you ever seen a ghost?”
“Nope.”
“Do you believe in them?”
“I believe other people believe in them.”
“That’s not an answer.” Jeff smiled.
“Hell Jeff I don’t know. Anything is possible I guess. Do you?”
“I never really thought about it,” he said.
“That’s not an answer,” Matt joked.
“Ok,I have no idea and I really don’t care. I can tell you one thing though. I would never go looking for them like you do.”
“I don’t go looking for them. I just tell stories.”
“You mean lies,” Jeff needled.
“Whatever,” Matt said polishing of his beer.
“Want to get another pitcher?” Jeff asked.
“Only if I can hang out at your house until I sober up.”
“Sure. We could cook supper if you want,” Jeff offered.
“Now you’re talking. I’ll go get us another round,” Matt said and got up and walked back inside.
Sitting there by himself he noticed that the three guys at the other table were getting a bit intoxicated. They were a little loud laughing at who knows what. He also noticed the four girls looked a little uncomfortable. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. One of the guys kept waving at them if they happened to look in their direction.
“What Dickheads,” he thought. The girls can’t even come out for a couple of beers without some idiots bothering them. When the guy asked them if they wanted some company one of the girls said “NO WAY!” which seemed to bruise his ego. All of a sudden all three of them got quiet and started whispering among themselves.
Bad sign Jeff thought.
Matt returned with the pitcher and two frosted mugs.
“Let the buzz begin!”
Jeff didn’t even smile and when Matt sat down he asked him what was wrong.
(8)
He told him about the incident between the guys and girls and also how the guys got quiet and started whispering.
“What? Do you think they would retaliate in some way?” Matt asked confused.
“I don’t know man. These guys seem pretty hammered.”
“Wait a minute Jeff. You’re not thinking of getting involved I hope.”
“Not if I don’t have to.”
Jeff was only about 5’6” and 150 pounds but he was in great shape. He was an avid windsurfer among other demanding activities. He was also a champion kick boxer when he ws in his early twenties. Even at age 38 he still went to the gym twice a week to spar and Matt always said if he was in a fight he would want Jeff watching his back. The thing was that Jeff was such a nice guy that Matt couldn’t imagine him in a fight. He was very slow to anger and Matt had never seen him mad at anything. Jeff himself said he had a long fuse but God forbid you didn’t want to light it.
“Let’s do some serious drinking,” Matt said pouring them each a fresh beer.
Jeff took a long swig while keeping an eye on the three men.
“Come on Jeff,” Matt said. “I’m sure the girls can take care of themselves. I mean they’re not leaving so they must not be that concerned.”
“Maybe they shoud be,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“They’ve been really quietnsince she shot him down. They’re still looking over at them and whispering among themselves.”
“About what?”
“Well I don’t know but…”
“See you don’t know,“ Matt said trying in vain to get Jeff to let it go.
“I’m going to tell the girls ,” he said and got up before Matt could stop him.
“No Jeff,” Matt’s request fell on deaf ears.
As Jeff walked over to the girls table the three guys watched him. Two of themalso looked over at the table he had come from. Matt looked away quickly and prayed that they didn’t see him staring.
“Excuse me,” Jeff said as he reached the girls table.
“Hey I know you,”one said looking up smiling. You’re a musician.”
“Yea.” Jeff said smiling.
“Where have you been playing?” She asked.
“I’ll be at the Hogpenny by the College of Charlleston this wekend, he said and added. That’s not why I came over though.”
“Oh?” Another girl said.
“Listen I could be wrong,” he said softly.” But hear me out. Whatever you do don’t look over at them. I heard that guy hit on you all and when you shot him down their whole table got got quiet and they started whispering seriously among themselves. Like I said I could be wrong but for some reason these guys seem really odd. They’re also pretty drunk. I just wanted you to know.”
“What are you saying?” Another girl asked.
“Probably nothing. Just be careful Ok. If you need someone to walk you out my buddy
(9)
And I will be right there,” he said pointing at the table where Matt sat pounding his third beer.
“Yea right. Thanks a lot,” another girl said as three of the four laughed. The one who didn’t was the girl who had seen Jeff perform.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Jeff said and returned to his table.
As he sat back down he glanced over at the girls and the same three were joking among themselves but the one girl had a serious look on her face as she was looking at Jeff.
“So how’d it go?” Matt asked pouring his fourth draft.
“Not good. They thought I was hitting on them.”
“What did you expect them to do throe their arms around you and say MY HERO!”
“The hell with them,” Jeff said. And looked over at the three men. They were all staring and smiling like they thought he’s tried to hit on them too. Jeff shrugged his shoulders and the three men started laughing.
“Did you say the hell with them?” Matt asked. “So what you’re saying is you wanted to warn them yet when they dismiss you you take it personally. Damn Jeff.”
“Shut up and drink,” he sapped at Matt.
Matt snickered and drained his beer.
“Wan’t to get another pitcher?” Matt asked.
“Might as well. There’s nothing else to do.”
“Yea you might as well drown your sorrows. You want to talk about it?” Matt asked.
“You’re a funny guy Matt. You’re going to look even funnier when I throw you off this deck.”
“Go get the damn beer Mr. I need to warn these chicks,” Matt joked.
Jeff got up giving Matt an evil look as he headed to the bar. He had to walk by the girls table and kept his eyes looking straight ahead as he passed. At least he didn’t hear any laughter.
He was standing at he bar waiting to place his order when the girl who knew him walked up next to him.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he replied and looked for the absent bartender.
“I’m Sara,” she introduced herself.
“Jeff,” he said without even looking at her.
“Yea I know. Jeff Rutledge right?”
“Yea,”
“ Look Jeff, she started. “I’m sorry about my friends but they’re so used to being hit on they thought you were just another scum ball.”
“And you?”
“Well seeing as how popular you are I guess it didn’t make sense to me that you would tell us a crazy story just to you know…”
“Well Sara I promise I wasn’t … aw hell just forget it. I was just being paranoid.”
Do you really think those creeps were… what were you thinking?’
“Nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything,” he said.
The bartender returned and Jeff ordered another pitcher. As he was filling it Sara ordered
(10)
four Newcastles.
“Would you still walk us out of here?” she asked.
“I don’t think your friends want any help.”
“I’ll take care of them,” she said. “How much longer will you be here?”
“At least long enough to drink this pitcher and probably one more,” he said as he paid the bartender.
“I’ll let you know,” she said as he grabbed the new mugs and started walking away.
“Ok,” he said and left it at that.
When he got back to his table Matt was kicked back with his feet up in an empty chair. Jeff told him about Sara which brought out more needling from Matt.
“Oh Jeff you’re so popular! Can I have your autograph?
“I’m getting ready to autograph your forehead,” he said shaking his fist smiling.
“So what do you want to cook?” Matt asked.
“Good question. Got any ideas?”
“Crab legs!” Matt said excited.
“Expensive,” Jeff said.
“I’ll put thirty bucks toward them,” Matt offerered.
“I’ll go twenty and I’ll put in another ten for beer.”
“Ok I’ll raise you ten and we’ll get a case.”
“Bingo,” Jeff replied with a laugh.
They sat there talking for another thirty minutes and were halfway through their fourth pitcher when Sara came over to their table to say they’d be ready in about ten minutes.
“Ok we’re just going to polish off this beer but we’ll be ready,” Jeff said. “Oh this is Matt. Matt this is Sara.”
“Hey,” she said.
“Howdy,” Matt said sticking out his hand for her to shake which thank God she did.
When she went back to her table Jeff noticed the three guys staring at him throught he corner of his eye.
“So after we walk them out then what?” Matt asked.
“Then we go get crab legs.”
“Hey man I don’t want to drive after drinking this much.”
There were only two two corner grocery stores on Folly Beach and they were both just family run businesses. Needless to say they didn’t sell crab legs. Matt and Jeff would have to drive three miles off the island to the Piggly Wiggly.
“I’ll drive, Jeff said shaking his head. Boy you sure can’t hold your liquor can you?”
“I don’t have as much practice as you,” Matt zinged.
“OOOH man! You giot me good,” he said and took the final swig of his beer.
When they got up the girls did too and Jeff glanced at the three guys again and they looked confused. What’s more is he could feel them staring a hole in his back as he got to the girls.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sara said. “They’re staring at us.”
“Don’t look at them,” Jeff warned.
“Where are you all parked?” Matt asked.
(11)
“We’re not, Sara said. “We’re renting a house on front beach.”
“Ok,” Jeff said. We’ll walk you to the corner of Center and Atlantic St. You should be Ok from there.”
“We’re only a block fron Center St,“ Sara said as they walked down the stairs. .“I hope it’s not out of your way,.”
“It’s not. I live in the blue house across from the Holiday Inn.” Jeff said.
“I know where that is,” Sara said. I always wondered who lived there.”
“You’re kidding?” Matt asked chuckling.
“No we park in front of it a lot. How long have you lived there?” she asked.
“Eight years.” Jeff said as they walked out of the Sundek and ambled toward Center St.
“We’re sorry about making fun of you,” another girl said.
“Don’t say that,” Matt protested. “His head was finally back to it’s normal size.”
“Which head?” She said laughing.
“Oh man she nailed you dude!” Matt said laughing.
“Yea, real funny.”
“I’m Lori, this is Erin and Patrica she said introducing them. You already know Sara.”
“Yea well I’m Jeff and this is Matt.”
After the introductions they made a left on Center Street and then it was only one block to front beach. Halfway dawn the block Matt glanced behing him and felt a chill run down his spine.
There they were.
They had just made the left on Center Street and they were walking three a breast.
“Don’t lok behind us but we’ve got company,” Matt said.
“Oh shit!” Sara said. “Are you kidding?”
“I wish I was.”
“I’m going to put an end to this once and for all,” Jeff said his anger rising fast.
“No you’re not,” Matt ordered. If you get in a fight that means I’ll have to fight and we both know I’ll get killed.”
“Matt’s right,” Sara said. “Just make sure we get home safely.”
“You don’t want these guys knowing where you live,” he said.
“He’s right,” Matt agreed.
“What do we do then?” Lori asked.
“Let’s go to Jeff’s house. It’s right there,” Matt said pointing.
They all agreed and decided to cross the street immediately.
As they did Jeff decided to look back and stare them down but when he did he noticed they weren’t paying any attention to them. In fact they were looking at the menu tacked up outside the Crab Shack. By the time they turned up the walkway leading to his house Jeff looked again and this time they were gone.
5:55 pm The Crab Shack, Center Street Folly Beach.
“That looks good man,” Lee said eying Rick’s fried shrimp.
“It is,” he said popping another into his mouth.
(12)
“How’s your steak?” Grady asked Lee.
“I’ve had better,” he answered.
“That’s what you get for ordering beef in a seafood restaurant,” Rick said.
“Haven’t you ever heard of surf and turf?” Lee asked.
“This fish is super,” Grady said.
“What are we going to do tonight?” Lee asked.
“Stay out of trouble,” Rick said which made the other two laugh.
The news had just come on the TV that was mounted ten feet from where they were sitting. The first story was about the Wells Fargo bank robbery. All three stared at the screen and when the survilence photos of Rick and Grady were put up the newscaster described the pair.
“Those guys look creepy,” Lee said loud enough for the table next to them to hear.
The guy and girl smiled and agreed.
The story went on to say that there were no leads yet but the pair was last seen heading down Ft. Johnson Road in the direction of the campground. Lee raised his glass to toast but Rick and Grady both gave him an “Are you out of your freaking mind!” look. He quickly acted as if he was inspecting it for an insect before putting it back on the table.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“Jesus,” Rick muttered shaking his head.
“It doesn’t look anything like you two,” he said softly.
“Will you shut the fuck up Lee,” Rick whispered.
“I’d like to check out the bars tonight,” Grady said changing the subject.
“Yea that’s what I plan to do,” Rick said finishing the last of his shrimp.
“I’d like to get lucky,” Lee said smiling.
“Good luck with that,” Grady said.
Lee was not God’s gift to women to say the least. In fact his nickname was Ug-Lee. With his stringy, thinning hair, bulbous nose, ears that stuck out and rotten teeth he ws the kind of guy a starving prostitute would turn down, not that Rick and Grady were that much better. Grady had beady brown eyes that seemed too close together. His nose seemed to turn up at the end making his nostrils too visable. It didn’t help matters that his nose hairs were in desperate need of a trim. Finally he had no lips. They weren’t just extremely thin, they were non-existant. He had a moustache before the robbery which he said he grew to cover up ugly but shaved it off so that the fake whiskers would fit correctly.
Rick was the best looking of the three but had acne scars which made one side of his face look like the surface of the moon. The other side was much better but he had an extremely weak chin and it was hard to tell where his neck ended and his face began. One thing in his favor was was his eyes. They were sky blue and crystal clear.. Along with his natural light blond hair it managed to offset his unattractive features. All three men were about 5’10” and 175 pounds. If not for their faces they would be considered attractive.
It was almost seven o’clock when they finally paid their check and walking out of the door Rick said he needed a shower.
“Yea I need to clean up before we go out,” Grady agreed.
“So I guess we’re going back to the room then?” Lee asked.
(13)
“You’re a freakin’ genius Lee,” Rick said rolling his eyes.
Rick had booked three rooms on the ninth floor which was also the top floor of the Holiday Inn. He felt it was better for each of them to have their own in case the police were checking hotels for any kind of lead. He also wanted his privacy. He didn’t want to hear anyone snoring and definitely didn’t want to share a bathroom or have to smell the stink that was sure to be coming off of Lee.
“I wonder what they’re all doing?” Grady asked as they passed Jeff’s house on the way to the Hotel.
“I don’t care what they’re doing at the moment. The only thing I care about is what they’re doing later,” Rick said.
They entered the hotel’s side entrance by the elevators. When they got off on their floor Rick asked them both to step inside his room for a second. After they all entered Rick closed the door gently. Grady sat on one of the beds and Lee grabbed a chair by the balcony. Rick cut the TV on and flipped through the channels until he landed on HBO. He had no idea what the movie was but he cut the sound up fairly loud. He walked over to Lee and slapped him as hard as he could one time across his face. Lee fell out of the chair and onto the floor clutching the left side of his face.
“Oh Goddamn what the fuck!” He yelled.
“You Goddamn dumbass son of a bitch!” Rick yelled.
“What?” he started to protest.
Rick cut the TV off and lowered his voice.
“Look here you fucking idiot. You make another fucking stupid ass mistake like you did in the restaurant I promise you will not live long enough to regret it.”
Lee was still in the same position on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry? You’re sorry? Look asshole I’m not going to jail because you’re sorry.”
“But Rick the pictures didn’t look anything likr you guys.”
“You are one stupid son of a bitch aren’t you? Well the cops aren’t. They’re not going to release what they know to the public. How long do you think it took them to find our diguises the taser and the guars gun? I’ll tell you. Probably about ten minutes. We left them sitting in plain sight in that little patch of woods. Believe me the cops know we don’t look like the pictures. Now I’m not going to bring this up again but dammit Lee don’t you ever make another bonehead move like you did tonight. You got it?”
“Yea I got it.”
“Good. Now you guys go get ready and meet back herre in thirty minutes,” he said as he showed them out.
6:15 pm Jeff Rutledge’s House 2 Center St. Folly Beach.
Jeff lived on the bottom floor of a two story duplex across the street from the Holiday Inn and Atlantic Ocean. He had always been a beach bum although he spent his first 19 years of life in Columbus Ohio. After he got married he and his wife moved to Key Largo Florida where they had a daughter Tamar when Jeff was twenty-three. Seven years later
(14)
they all moved to Charleston and within a year he and his wife Jeri separated. Jeff moved to the beach while his wife and daughter remained on James Island. He was lucky that a close friend owned the house that he moved into. It was supposed to be only temporary because Bruce the owner would rent it out by the week in the summer where he could make $1,000 a pop. Fortunetly for Jeff and unfortunately for Bruce his friend was killed in a motorcycle accident in March two months after Jeff moved in. Bruce’s wife Natalie decided to let Jeff have the place year round for only $300 dollars a month. Eight years later he was still there and the rent was still only $450. Probably the best deal on the entire island. Jeff’s furniture consisted of a sofa but the rest of the seats in the living room were P.A. speakers or power amps and other music equipment. When everyone was comfortable Matt asked the girls what their dinner plans were.
“We hadn’t made any yet,” Sara said. “Why?”
“Jeff and I thought we’d buy a bunch of snow crab legs and have a feast.”
“Are you inviting us for dinner?” Lori asked.
“Hell I don’t know. You’re here , we’re hungry. It’s not a big deal. We just need to make plans soon because we wanted to go out tonight.”
“I do love crab legs,” Lori admitted.
“Who doesn’t,” Jeff said picking up some dirty clothes and tossing them in his room.
“My last boyfriend,” she said. “The idiot didn’t like any kind of seafood. Can you believe that?”
“What is he some kind of a nut?” Matt joked.
“Worse than that. He was a pervert.”
“I’m not stepping into that minefield,” Jeff said.
“She broke up with him because he was corresponding with a fourteen year old girl.” Erin offered.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Jeff said surprised.
“No he was a real scumbag,” Lori admitted.
“So where were you guys going to get the crab?” Sara asked.
“We’ll need to drive to the Piggly Wiggly,” Jeff said.
“You girls want to eat here?” Sara asked them.
“I have a better idea,” Lori said. Why don’t we cook them at our place. Our kitchen is much bigger. Hell every room is bigger.”
“And a lot cleaner I would imagine,” Matt teased.
“That goes without saying.” Lori smiled.
“Are you saying I’m a slob?” Jeff asked jokingly.
“No you’re just a typical guy. I’d rather sit in a comfortable chair than a speaker,” she said.
“Well ya’lls place is fine with me, “ Jeff said.
“Me too,” Matt added.
“We can take my van to the store,” Jeff said. “It will fit all of us comfortably and Matt wants me to drive anyway.”
“So let’s go,” Matt said standing up.
They all piled into Jeff’s Ford Econoline 150 that had four captain’s chairs and a sofa in
(15)
the back which folded out into a bed. Jeff used it to sleep on when he was playing out of town. As they drove down Center Street on their way off the island Erin saw the three guys sitting on the deck of the Crab Shack having dinner.
“There they are!” she said as they passed.
“Did they see us?” Jeff asked.
“No they’re looking at the TV.”
“Good,” he said.
6:40 pm Piggly Wiggly Folly Road.
Matt and Jeff were sifting through the frozen crab legs of which were packaged in 3 and 4 pound bags. Each bag ran from $28 to $37. They ended up buying $148 worth. About 16 pounds between 6 people.
“I don’t want to run out and still be hungry,” Matt said smiling.
“We still need beer,” Jeff announced.
They bought a case of Heineken and a case of Newcastle. When they checked out the bill came to $196.70. Matt whipped out his credit card and said it was all on him.
“That’s mighty generous of you,” Jeff said. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch, I’ll just deduct it as a business dinner,” he said.
“What do you do?” Erin asked.
“I own my own company,” he said proudly.
